10 reasons why parenting is like The Traitors
I love this show. The murders, the round tables, the meetings at Traitor Towers. After a day of potty training and child play, it’s great watching people be so deliciously evil and seeing a group of intelligent, reasonable people descend into paranoid madness. Only a few days ago though, it occurred to me: that’s probably why I like it – because I too was once an intelligent, reasonable person before my life of toddler tantrums and chaos. Those Faithfuls are living my life. Here’s why parenting is exactly like being on The Traitors.
There are odd tasks throughout the day.
You know when you have to find two pieces of a hippo puzzle, coach a toddler on using a spoon and wrestle a chicken nugget from a baby after her older sister threw it on the floor? All in the space of two minutes? That would surely put at least £7000 in the prize fund.
The only time you can get work done is after everyone else has gone to bed.
I’m going to say it: I’m jealous of Traitor Towers. They are fully equipped with stationery, get to wear cloaks which are VERY forgiving to the waistline and most importantly, they actually have peace and quiet to get some work done. If Claudia ever asked me to write a name to banish between the hours of 4pm and 6pm, the paper would be two hours late and covered in cottage pie, shampoo and teething gel.
You can’t leave the house.
Not only is the location of The Traitors like a National Trust family day out (one of the stressful ones with hardly any toilets), you’re stuck there. It’s like being housebound when the kids are ill or you’re ruled by a very rigid nap routine. No wonder some of those contestants look relieved when they’re banished – they get to leave those same four walls.
You sleep uneasy.
OK, so maybe none of us get ready for bed with the same moody music in the background but when those contestants complain about being exhausted and sleep-deprived, I get it. They have one eye open about being murdered; I have one eye open because of an 8 month sleep regression.
You celebrate at breakfast if you actually sleep well.
We see the Faithfuls celebrating at breakfast when they’ve survived another night. That’s us – and more – if our baby actually sleeps all the way through. The cheering, the hugs; the glassy, tear-filled eyes. What have we become?
The blame game is real.
Those sneaky traitors are constantly looking for the next patsy to frame – or selling each other out at the round table. It’s like dealing with sibling warfare, when both blame the other for stealing from the biscuit tin or farting in the car.
Fake tears sometimes work.
Much like Wilf in Series 1 or Paul in Series 2, my toddler is also in the running for the ‘Most Fake Tears in a scene’ BAFTA. While hers are aiming for another flapjack or more Bluey time, she’s just as effective as the Traitors. I’m surprised we haven’t voted Daddy out of the house for not giving her more time on the trampoline.
The sabotage is regular.
It’s like when the Traitors want a shield so a Faithful can’t use it. Or they banish someone so it looks like a particular Faithful did it. There are some days where it just feels like forces are working us. Like when your baby throws the last of their porridge on the floor or there isn’t a clean nappy in your change bag after you’ve thrown the dirty one away.
Sometimes you don’t want to admit family connections.
Much like Diane and Ross keeping shtum so they could work together, I too have not been the first to advertise who my kid is at the local toddler group. At the time, she was squeezing pipettes from the water table into children’s eyes though – so that’s where the similarity ends.
Tiger mother instinct takes over.
Did you see Diane’s face when Ross was voted? Let’s not pretend that’s not all of us, if we see anyone singling out our little angels. And we all get the Game of Thrones-style energy from Ross about avenging her murder when he was recruited into the Traitors.
